Denial, Thy name is
by Mac Black
Summary: Eventual H/D slash. Mostly fits with the epilogue of DH. Faced with a dead-end marriage, Harry and Ginny decide to split. Harry quits his job as an auror and moves to teach at Hogwarts, where he meets his long lost... rival, Draco Malfoy. Please r & r!
1. Ginny

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I merely manipulate them for my own enjoyment. And hopefully yours. Might I also add that I get no form of money whatsoever from writing this story. 

**Author's Note:** Here's an odd little piece I found myself constructing in my head. I got the name from the name of a chapter of someone else's piece, can't remember who or what but it was one of my favourites. If it's yours, drop me a line in a review and I'll give credit where credit is due! Thanks for the inspiration!

Enjoy!

Denial, Thy name is… 

GINNY felt a bittersweet wrenching in her chest as she watched her husband speaking quietly to their son Albus on the platform.

"Mum," Lily whined, "can I _please_ go to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's?"

Ginny sighed, looking down at her daughter doubtfully. Maybe this was a good idea after all. This morning, she had almost decided to make Lily stay home – after all, with both the boys at school now, their daughter was the only buffer between herself and Harry. But… maybe they needed to talk about this – thing.

"I'll talk to your father about it," Ginny said, her tone making it clear that the conversation was over.

Lily merely smiled and turned back to talk to Hermione.

Ginny grinned despite herself as she heard her daughter whispering.

"He _always_ gives in. I'll be allowed, you'll see."

Hermione caught Ginny's eye and raised her eyebrows, grinning. Ginny shrugged.

Harry had finished talking to Albus, and was now ushering him onto the train.

"Tell James not to send home any toilet seats!" Ginny called, which earned her a nudge and an eye-roll from Ron.

The train moved out of sight and Ginny felt an arm wrap around her. She turned her head, surprised, for a moment, to see that the arm belonged to Harry; it felt foreign and somehow detached. However, she quickly realised that Harry was keeping up the pretence for the benefit of Ron and Hermione. She met Harry's eyes and gave him a look that he immediately understood. He nodded, and they smiled at each other, the pain they both felt disguised too deeply for anyone but each other to see.

"Lily, I understand you'll be going to Ron and Hermione's house for a sleepover tonight," Harry began, as Lily squealed in delight, "we'll have to make some muffins this afternoon for you to take over, what do you think?"

"Great idea, Dad!" Lily said, beaming.

"Yes, that's a good idea, Harry," Ginny said sincerely, "it'll be a good chance for us to all spend some time together.

They said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, politely declining the invitation to have dinner at their place and arranging for Ron to collect Lily by Floo at five o'clock.

Lily chattered happily on their way home, barely pausing to catch her breath. Clearly the prospect of having a sleepover with her favourite Aunt and Uncle had chased away any lingering sadness regarding Hogwarts.

Harry heard the telltale whoosh of the floo rushing to life and called out to Ron from the kitchen.

"Just getting the muffins out of the oven. Come in."

"Where are the girls?" Ron asked.

"You have _got_ to stop calling them that. If Ginny heard you-"

"Heard what?" Ginny came into the kitchen, grinning. Ron looked uncomfortable, and chose wisely to remain silent.

"Lily's upstairs packing," Ginny commented, clearly willing to let it go. Ron looked at her suspiciously; this was not typical behaviour. Ginny's gaze flickered uncertainly to Harry, and Ron suddenly understood: they were having problems again.

He sighed, thinking back to the time Harry had burst out of their kitchen fireplace, sobbing his eyes out at 2am just over 10 years ago. Hermione had been up, unable to sleep from the vigorous kicking she was receiving to the inside of her stomach. She had taken one look at him and immediately sent her patronus to wake Ron, simultaneously fixing him a hot chocolate and urging him to sit down.

"_Harry? What's wrong?"_

"_Oh. Um, it's – it's about Ginny."_

"_Is she okay?"_

"_Oh, yeah. She's fine. It's just. We've been having some problems, and I…"_

"_Oh, Harry," Hermione murmured, pulling him into a hug as he began to cry again._

"_What is it, mate?" Ron prompted, completely transformed into caring best friend mode, despite the fact that he was barely awake._

"_I… I… I don't think we're in love anymore… And – there's this… guy, at work. He's been flirting with me, and I – I almost-"_

"_Listen, Harry, it's no use feeling guilty about what you almost did. The point is, you stopped yourself. So don't beat yourself up about that," Hermione said reasonably._

"_But, I wanted to! I _want_ to! I feel terrible. But I know Ginny's been feeling the distance between us too. I really wanted it to work out between us, but… I don't know, I just can't see it happening."_

"_Harry, listen," Ron began, "why don't you go home and talk to _Ginny_ about this? If you say she's noticed that things aren't right between you, don't you think she deserves to know everything that you're feeling? She won't hold it against you, mate. I know her. She is, first and foremost, your _friend_."_

"_Okay, Ron. Hermione. Thanks." Harry left immediately._

_A week later, in the midst of a trial 'mental' separation (they were still living together but sleeping in different beds for the sake of James and Albus – who was 1), Ginny discovered she was two months pregnant. Ron and Hermione had not heard anything further about their problems._

Ron looked at Harry, who was busy stacking the dishwasher, and sighed, motioning for Ginny to follow him into the lounge room. He cast a silencing spell on the room, before he turned to Ginny.

"You know, Gin, sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better for you two to split when you had problems the first time."

Ginny looked surprised. "Ron, we were having another baby. We both agreed that it would be better for everyone involved if Harry were around to help me take care of her. To watch her grow up."

Ron sighed. "I know. It probably _was_ for the best. Oh well, good luck tonight. And, whatever you do, make sure you are still on good enough terms to be in the same room with him. I couldn't choose between you."

Ginny smiled, despite herself. "Ron, you know there's no danger of a messy break-up. Harry and I will still be friends, no matter what happens. We've always been good at _that_, at least."

"Yeah, you have," Ron agreed, ending the silencing charm and heading upstairs to get Lily.

"What was that about?" Harry asked, poking his head in the doorway.

"Just making sure that we won't have to take alternate Christmases with the family," Ginny said, laughing.

"No danger of that," Harry said, grinning and coming to join her on the couch.

Ron reappeared at the top of the stairs with Lily in tow.

"Muffins are in the kitchen, ready to go," Harry said.

Ron nodded and went in search of them.

"See you tomorrow sweetheart," Harry said, giving Lily a hug and kiss.

"Bye," Lily replied.

"Don't stay up too late," Ginny said, pulling Lily into a hug.

Lily rolled her eyes at Harry and Ron over her mother's shoulder and they both stifled their laughs.

"See you tomorrow!"

Ron gazed at them both sadly, then nodded once and took Lily through the floo.

Harry and Ginny remained on the couch in silence for several long minutes.

Finally, Ginny said: "Should we get some dinner organised?"

Harry laughed. "Ever the practical one, Gin."

While they cooked together, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement not to talk about anything too serious, but once they were seated at the table, it was clear to both of them that they could not put it off any longer.

"I hate this," Harry confessed, looking at Ginny with saddened eyes.

"Me too. But, Harry, this isn't working. We both know it."

"The children are all old enough to be able to see that something's wrong," Harry added.

"Do you think that's why Lily likes spending so much time at Ron and Hermione's? Because they have a happy marriage?"

"No bad vibes. Yeah, maybe," Harry said, looking at his plate.

For a few minutes, neither said anything.

"Should we try a separation?" Harry suggested, and Ginny started to cry.

"Probably a waste of time, Harry. I think we both know that we've grown too far apart to ever have a hope of rekindling our love."

"How did this happen?" Harry asked, reluctant to comfort her incase it was awkward.

"I don't know, it's so easy to just ignore it. Well, you know."

"Yeah. It's not easy to ignore, but it's easier than actually facing it head on."

"Well, we're brave," Ginny said, and giggled a little. Harry recognised it as an attempt to cover her crying and moved over to hug her.

"We'll still be good friends, you know," he said, smoothing her hair.

"Yes, I'm so glad we haven't lost the ability to have fun together and to talk properly."

"That would make this a lot more difficult," Harry acknowledged.

Ginny didn't reply, but turned to face Harry and return his embrace.

"Would it be too weird if we kept living together? For the sake of the kids?" Harry asked.

"Probably not at first," Ginny responded, "but Harry, it would be really awkward when we started to see other people. I don't think that's a good idea. But maybe during the holidays we can all live here, so the kids don't have to switch between two places."

"That's a good idea. I swear, Ginny, Hermione's practicality has definitely worn off on you," Harry said, and Ginny grinned.

"I always hoped it would," she confessed in a whisper, and they both burst into laughter.

Harry slept in the spare room that night, and in the morning, when Ron and Hermione came to drop Lily off, Harry took her into the lounge while Ginny spoke quickly to Ron and Hermione. Harry heard Ron's last words:

"I'll talk to George right away."

"Lily," Ginny said softly as she entered the lounge room, "your Dad and I have something we need to talk to you about."

"Lily," Harry began, then paused, looking at Ginny. She nodded meaningfully at him, and he breathed deeply. "Lily," he said again, "there's no easy way for me to say this. Your mother and I love you and James and Albus so much, and we care for each other a lot too. But we're not in love anymore."

Lily looked at Harry and said quietly, "I know, Dad."

Harry was surprised, but when he looked at Ginny, she seemed quite calm.

"We're going to split up, darling," she said softly, moving forward to take Lily into her arms.

Lily began to cry. "I don't want to choose! I love you both, I don't want to choose between you!"

"Oh, no, darling, you won't have to. Harry and I have talked this through. Harry?" Ginny said.

"Lily, I'm going to stay with uncle George for a little while, but only at night time, okay? I'll be here during the day so we can all spend time together. Is that okay?"

"How long will you stay with uncle George?"

"Just until I can get my house at Grimmauld place set up well enough for me to live there."

"But I thought you didn't like that place," Lily said.

"I know, sweetheart, but it's time for me to let go of the past. I'm going to fix it up and live there, and you'll be able to come and stay over when ever you want."

"When you go to school, during the holidays Harry will come and stay here with us, so we can all be together, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

Harry and Ginny got permission from McGonagall to have James and Albus over for the weekend. They both seemed wholly unsurprised and Harry was proud of them for being so aware and so mature about the whole thing.

However, on the Saturday night, when Harry had just settled down in George's spare bed, he heard a soft call from the floo in the living room.

It was Albus.

"Dad?" said the head of Albus.

Harry could see that Albus had been in bed, but he was wide awake and had obviously been waiting for the rest of the house to fall asleep before making this call.

"What's up, Albus? Do you want to come through?"

"No, it's okay. I'll go to bed soon, it's just…"

Harry didn't interrupt; he knew it was better to let Albus speak when he needed to.

"Dad, can I come live with you? During the holidays, I mean. I – I want to see mum too, of course, but… I'd like to live with you. Most of the time."

"I'd really like that, Albus," Harry said quietly, feeling his heart lighten a little. "I'll talk to your mother tomorrow, okay? You go back to sleep, now. Good boy." Harry kissed Albus' forehead, ignoring the tickle of the green flames on his face.

"Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight."

"Of course that's fine," Ginny said, wiping her forehead as she bent over the stove, stirring scrambled eggs with her wand. The children were upstairs, getting dressed.

"Are you sure? Do you think it's okay to separate them?"

"Harry, they're old enough to make these kinds of decisions for themselves. Personally, I think it'll be good for Albus to have some time apart from James. And I don't attempt to deny that there has always been a special connection between you and Albus that I couldn't begin to understand."

"It's his Slytherin side," Harry joked, secretly touched that she would acknowledge that without resentment.

"Ah. In that case, I don't _want_ to know," she said and they both laughed.

They were still grinning when the children walked in.

"Aren't you supposed to be upset?" James said, scowling as he took his seat.

"No, James. We're doing what we do best," Harry said.

"Oh? And what's that?" James asked, still scowling.

"Being friends," Harry said, smiling at Ginny.

End of part one


	2. Hermione

Denial, Thy name is… 

HERMIONE was in the living room, watching a muggle DVD while her baby-sized jumper knitted itself in the air next to her when Harry burst in through the floo.

"Harry! What are you doing here?" She asked, immediately waving her hand at the remote to pause the DVD.

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Why aren't you at work?"

Harry sighed. "I took the day off. I just wanted to talk to you about something, do you have time?"

"Sure, I'll put some tea on." Hermione picked up her wand and waved it in the direction of the kitchen. "Is it Ginny?" she asked.

It had been 10 months since they divorced, and the end of the school year was fast approaching. Harry and Ginny had found it too difficult to live in the same place during the holidays, even for the sake of their children, so they agreed to spend their days together at one or the other of their houses, or out, and then Harry and Albus went to Grimmauld place to sleep. Sometimes Lily or James or both of them slept at Harry's and sometimes Albus slept at Ginny's. There was no order to it; the children just decided at bed time where they wanted to sleep.

Harry sighed again; he _knew_ she would assume that. "No," he said, steeling himself to tell her what he was worried about.

"Hermione, I got a letter from Minerva last week. She wants me to teach at Hogwarts."

Hermione looked surprised. "And you're obviously considering it. What position?"

"She said I could choose between Defense and Flying lessons, because she has another teacher in mind who could also quite easily teach both of those and she says he's willing to do either."

Hermione looked uneasy for a moment. "Harry, I thought you enjoyed working at the Ministry."

"I did. Sort of. The thing is, Hermione, for a while it was enough for me to do what people expected me to because I liked making people feel safe and comfortable. But I need to do some things for myself now."

"Are you still talking about work?" Hermione asked shrewdly.

"Yes. But I'm also talking about Ginny. I don't regret having our kids, Hermione, you know I adore them. Sometimes, though, I can't help but wonder if I would still have married Ginny if it wasn't what the whole wizarding world expected me to do."

Hermione looked very uncomfortable. "Have you told Ginny any of this?"

"No. I don't think that's necessary. It's over now, and she doesn't need to keep talking about it. Neither do I."

"Harry," Hermione said, now addressing her other concern, "I've heard rumours about that other teacher McGonagall has in mind."

"Draco Malfoy? Yeah, I've heard that too. To be honest, Hermione, Minerva told me in the letter that he'd be taking up the other post and she was very clear that she expected us to contain our rivalry to our private rooms. I think she's expecting too much of us."

"Harry, you can't be considering working with Malfoy!"

"Why not?"

Hermione looked scandalised. "Harry, you hate each other. You'd tear each other to pieces, every day, and think of the students. You'd be setting them such a bad example!"

"Hermione, if anything this conversation has only made me want to prove myself even more. I _can_ do this."

"I thought you wanted to do things for yourself. Don't take up a new job just to prove yourself to your friends."

"I need to prove myself to _myself_!" Harry yelled.

"Well you shouldn't! Look at everything you've done already! You're the last person you need to prove yourself to!"

"It should be my friends!" Harry shouted, stomping back to the fireplace. In the kitchen the kettle was boiling.

"Harry, I can't let you do this!"

"LET ME?!" Harry roared, whirling around to face Hermione, anger contorting his normally handsome features.

Hermione flinched as her lights flickered. Harry noticed too, and made a visible effort to calm himself.

"Hermione, you know that I let _no one_ tell me what to do. You also know that I include you in that category of '_no one_'. When you've come to your senses, and when we've both calmed down, come and see me. I would appreciate some _sensible_ advice, considering I mean to accept the position."

Hermione visited Harry that evening.

"Ron's out," she said. "I brought some dinner – homemade pizza. Is that okay?"

"I love your pizza," Harry commented, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"I know. I'm sorry, Harry."

"Me too."

They sat on the couch together and ate the pizza in silence. When they had finished, Harry sighed and flicked his fingers in the direction of the TV.

After a moment of silence, which was amplified by the lack of sound coming from the TV, Hermione said, "Have you written to McGonagall?"

"Oh, no. Not yet. I wanted your advice first."

"On which position you should take?"

"No, no. I've decided. I just want to know if I'm doing the right thing."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione gave him a tight hug. "Whatever will make _you_ the happiest is the right thing. I'm sorry I was so stupid today."

"That's okay, Hermione. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

"No harm done. That meditation is really helping you control your magic."

They smiled at each other. Hermione opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, but Harry beat her to it.

"Flying," he said. He grinned when she rolled her eyes at her own predictability.

"I think that's a good choice. It's not as much stress, and you'll only have first years."

"Actually, Minerva suggested that I could also act as an all-house quidditch coach for any individual or team that requests my help."

"That's great! Harry, I'm sure you'll really enjoy that."

"Me too," Harry said, smiling and looking more relaxed than Hermione had seen him in a while.

"Now all I have to do is quit my current job, write a letter of acceptance to Minerva, pack up my stuff to move into Hogwarts, and tell Ron."

Hermione laughed; telling Ron would definitely be the hardest part.

…

"You _WHAT_?! No, Harry. I can't believe I'm hearing this!"

"Ron," Hermione attempted, "Harry needs to do this. For himself."

"Hermione, stay out of this!" Ron snapped. Hermione looked hurt. Ginny sat meekly on the sidelines, for once not venturing any comments. She was surprised at Harry's choice of position, and then felt annoyed at herself for not knowing Harry well enough.

"Harry." Ron sounded slightly calmer. "I know you think Malfoy regrets everything that he did-"

"He _does_," Harry interjected. Ron held up his hand and continued talking

"-but I still think he's an obnoxious little git. And the further we all are from that ferret, the better. What if he hexes you in your sleep?"

"Ron, do you think I'd sleep in the proximity of that many witches and wizards and _not ward my room_?!" Harry asked, highly offended.

"No! No, of course not! But, Harry," Ron sounded whiny now, "He's evil!"

"Ron. I'm doing this. I need to," Harry said, sounding so desperate that Ron had to give in.

"Fine. But I want you to stay as far away from him as possible."

"That's my intention," Harry said.

…

"_Dad_," Albus persisted, "_why_ can't we come with you?"

"Because I don't want you to be singled out. The less we make of you being my children, the better it will be."

"Dad," James said in his sensible tone of voice, "they already know. It's kind of hard to hide something like this when your last name is Potter."

"Trust me, James, I know," Harry grinned. "But I still want you all to go on the train with your friends. I missed the train, you know, in my second year. It would have been so much more fun if I had been on it."

"Are you joking?!" James said, and Albus and Lily laughed, "You were in the flying car with Uncle Ron!"

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't answer. Instead, he and Ginny shooed them towards the train. Ginny said her goodbyes, and Harry just winked at them all. "See you in 9 hours!"

Lily groaned.

When the train was out of sight, Ginny and Harry turned towards each other.

"Well," Ginny said, spotting Ron and Hermione making their way over.

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling slightly awkward.

"Hi, Harry, Ginny!" Ron said brightly, "all ready, Harry?"

"Yep, got my trunk right here," Harry said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a matchbox sized chest.

"Well then, we'll see you to the fireplace," Hermione said briskly, commandeering Harry's arm and pulling him away from the others so fast that it was obvious to everyone she wanted a private word with him.

"Harry, don't pick any fights with Malfoy, okay?"

"Hermione, I intend to ignore him as much as possible. I think that's the best course; we have been doing it for 20 years now, after all."

"Yes, well. You know, he'll find that very irritating. I don't think he'll let you ignore him for long."

Harry sighed. "I know. Twat."

Hermione laughed as they reached the fireplace and Ron and Ginny caught up with them.

"Well, see you!" Harry said.

"I know we're not allowed to visit, but I've put in a request for any Hogwarts business to be forwarded to me," Ron said conversationally, though it meant a lot to Harry.

"Thanks, Ron."

"No worries, mate. See you soon," Ron said, giving Harry a fake and highly exaggerated wink. Harry laughed and hugged him.

"I'll miss being able to see you all whenever I want, but Christmas is only a few months away."

Hermione stepped forward for her hug, then she and Ron left.

Ginny looked uncomfortable. "Ah," she said.

"Well, see you."

"Yeah. Look after yourself. And the kids."

"I will."

"Tell James from me that I don't want any Hogwarts Hospital Wing bedpans sent home this year," Ginny joked.

"He never – oh." Harry laughed. "See you soon, Gin."

"Bye, Harry."

Harry turned and entered the floo.

…

Lily was sorted into Ravenclaw. Harry was wholly unsurprised – she was extremely bright. He was surprised though, that all three of his children were in different houses – though he was glad none of them had been sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Phew, close call eh? I'd have sent her home if she'd been sorted into Hufflepuff," Malfoy commented from Harry's left.

Harry was surprised; in his attempt to ignore Malfoy, he had almost forgotten that they were sitting next to each other.

"That doesn't surprise me, Malfoy. Although I admit to being relieved, I would have supported her no matter what."

"Though you would have preferred your other two children."

"Exactly," Harry said, grinning. His gaze never left the scene before him, though he could feel Malfoy looking at him.

"Potter," Malfoy said, in a tone that made it impossible for Harry not to look at him – it was discomfort.

"Yes?" Harry answered, studying Malfoy's face and feeling amused and somewhat victorious at the obvious reluctance Malfoy had in meeting Harry's eyes.

"I… Thanks."

Harry was momentarily confused; then, Malfoy finally met his gaze and the look in his eyes was so intense, and Harry could feel Malfoy willing him to understand. And suddenly he did. Malfoy was thanking Harry for saving his life. After all these years, it was still troubling him.

"Don't mention it," Harry said, giving what he thought was the answer Malfoy wanted.

"Potter, you arse!" Malfoy shouted, shoving his chair back as he stood and drawing the attention of the whole room. Harry was shocked.

"Er-" he said, gulping as he felt Minerva's glare on the back of his head.

Malfoy seemed to realise where he was and sat back down promptly, glaring at Harry.

"How can you act like it was nothing?!" Malfoy hissed.

Harry was confused. "I thought that's what you-"

"What I wanted? Potter, we hated each other! I would have killed you, had I the chance, and you! You had to fucking save my life!" Although Malfoy was still hissing, the attention of the whole room was still on him.

"Er- Malfoy, perhaps we should continue this conversation in my rooms, after dinner?" Harry suggested, feeling a weight settle on his shoulders already. So much for the 'ignore him' plan.

"You bet we should. I'm not finished with you," Malfoy growled.

…

Despite himself, Harry grinned as he led Malfoy into his sitting room. "Did you notice how disappointed all the students were when we stopped fighting in front of them?"

Malfoy chuckled. "Yeah. Look, Potter, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown up at you like that. I – just-"

"You don't understand why I did it. Why I saved you."

Malfoy nodded, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"Malfoy, you have to understand that in my last year of school – sixth year – and the year after that, I didn't really hate you."

"What?"

"I saw something in you that I had never seen before and… I… well, I guess I was intrigued."

"So what did you see?"

"Fear. I guess that's when I finally understood that you're only human. Just like the rest of us."

"Except for Voldemort."

"You're right. Snakey bastard that he was."

Malfoy looked at Harry, shocked. "How is it that you would say such a thing in front of me?"

"You never really supported him. You were just doing what was expected of you."

Malfoy was speechless. He was so shocked that he could only look at Harry, in disbelief. Harry correctly interpreted his facial expression.

"I know this because it's exactly what I've been doing my whole life. Plus, I saw you in some visions. You were terrified and a little disgusted by Voldemort. Plus, you refused to identify me when we were caught. I'm sure you knew who I was."

"You're right. I did know. I just – I was so confused, I didn't know what – I mean, it wasn't even so much a personal thing… I'm not sure that I would have cared that much either way if you died or not. But I knew that if you died that would be the end of it, and Voldemort would win. And I wasn't sure that that's what I really wanted."

Harry nodded; this was what he had suspected all along.

"You know, Malfoy, I was trying my best to ignore you, but I'm actually really glad to be able to hear all of this from you. Now I know that what I've thought all this time is actually true."

"Harry," Malfoy said then, and Harry looked surprised, "I'm really grateful that you saved my life, and that you believed in me all that time. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Malfoy," Harry replied, having learned his lesson that thanks from a Malfoy is not to be waved away.

"I'm sorry to hear about your divorce," Malfoy commented lightly.

"Yeah? Well, it was for the best."

"It's not an easy thing to go through," Malfoy said, giving Harry another of those meaningful gazes.

"But… you – I thought you-"

"We kept it out of the papers."

Harry raised his eyebrows. That was no mean feat for a personality as controversial as Malfoy's. "How long?" Harry asked.

"Five years. Scorpius is doing fine, though. He lives with me. There was never much love between him and his mother."

"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerely.

"I'm not," Malfoy said.

There was a knock at the door.

Harry went to open it, and grinned when he couldn't see anything. He opened the door wider, to Malfoy's surprise, then closed it.

"Now," Harry said thoughtfully, "being a Tuesday today, I'm guessing it's James." Harry winked at Malfoy who was shocked when Albus Potter materialised in front of them.

"I asked James to borrow it, I wanted to see you," Albus said, ignoring Malfoy for the moment.

"What's up, Albus?"

"Dad, I'm friends with Scorpius."

"I know, son. You know that I'm fine with that."

"Yes, but – now you're fighting with Professor Malfoy."

"Actually," Malfoy drawled, "I believe we've made up. So to speak," he smirked at Harry, who merely smiled in return.

"There you go, Albus. No problems."

"Okay. Um, goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight," Harry said, kissing Albus on the cheek and covering him again with the invisibility cloak. "Don't let any of the other professors catch you out of bed! I'm sure professor Malfoy here wouldn't take points, but I can't say the same for… Professor McGonagall, for example."

Albus giggled from under the cloak. "No, Dad."

Harry opened the door and let Albus out, then turned to Malfoy, who had an evil looking smirk.

"So that's how you got into Hogsmeade that time. Potter, you gave me such a fright."

"Sorry. No, wait. You deserved it, you twat."

Malfoy laughed. "I guess I did. But my hair didn't."

Harry grinned.

…

End of part two


	3. Ron

Denial, Thy name is… 

RON was in a state of shock. He was also very angry.

"What do you _mean_ you're 'sort of' friends with him?!" He bellowed.

Actually, he was mostly just angry.

Harry cringed. "Well, he started it."

"I DON'T CARE WHO STARTED IT! I WANT YOU TO END IT!"

"Uh, Ron," Harry said, very gently, "I can't just stop being friends with him now."

Ron's face had gone very, very red and Harry thought he could almost see steam coming out of his ears.

"Why not?!" He growled. Harry sighed; at least the growling was better than the yelling.

"Well, that would just be weird," Harry said reasonably.

"Harry," Ron said through gritted teeth, "this is not good."

"Ron, I don't see what the problem is. He's thanked me for saving his life, we've exchanged apologies for our past behaviour-"

"You had nothing to apologise for," Ron interjected.

"- and we have found that we actually get on really well. He's really quite funny," Harry said, choosing to ignore Ron's interruption.

Ron visibly sagged; clearly he had realised that Harry was not going to back down on this point.

"Fine. Do what you want. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Harry grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Ron gave him a wan smile, then brightened. "So who's this guy you're dating, then?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, we're not dating. We went on one date."

"Are you going to see him again?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't think so."

"Not right?"

"Nah."

"Well, since I'm obviously not going to meet him, can you describe him to me? I have to keep up somehow," Ron winked at Harry.

"Actually, you probably know him. He's an Auror."

"Name?"

"Jesse Hannaford."

"Ah, yes. Bit snotty, that one."

"Hmmm," was all Harry said.

"Quite a looker, though," Ron continued, feigning ignorance of Harry's discomfort. "Medium height, slim, blond, blue-eyed…"

"Yes," Harry said, becoming more enthusiastic. "In that respect he's exactly my type."

"So the snottiness put you off?"

"No, not at all. Actually I think it's rather cute. No, he was too… Auror-ish. But in a bad way," Harry added hurriedly, catching the look on Ron's face.

"What, like too much of a goody two-shoes?" Ron said, looking pleased with his use of a muggle phrase.

"Exactly," Harry agreed.

"What about David? The guy you saw last week?" Ron prodded.

"Daniel. He was… I don't know. He was very attractive, similar in appearance to Jesse. But he liked exactly the same things as me. We didn't disagree about anything."

"I thought that would be a good thing," Ron said, clearly amused.

"No," Harry said, "I like to be able to have a bit of tension in a relationship. Disagreements and making up are what keeps it interesting."

"Hmmm," Ron said.

Harry stood up. "Well, thanks for having me over. I better get back to the school. I've got to teach first lesson tomorrow."

"Okay, Harry. Keep me posted on the romance!"

Harry's only response was to roll his eyes again as he entered the floo.

It was 9 o clock when Harry had changed into his comfy clothes, lit the fire and settled down in front of it with a book.

As soon as he had turned to the chapter he was up to, there was a knock at the door.

Harry sighed, replacing his bookmark and setting the book aside resolutely. "Come in," he called, waving his hand simultaneously to unlock the door.

The door opened, and Harry saw a hand holding two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine before the owner of the hand came into view. It was Malfoy.

Harry grinned; obviously this was a social visit.

"Draco! Thank Merlin it's you – I thought for sure it would be one of the other staff members with a work-related problem."

Draco looked guilty.

"Oh. Well, at least you brought wine," Harry said, trying to lessen his friend's guilt.

"Not just any wine. It's from the Malfoy vineyard. In Australia."

"Your family has a vineyard in Australia?" Harry was genuinely surprised. It seemed so… uncouth, somehow.

"Well, the best wine in the world comes from Australia," Draco said matter-of-factly.

"What's the problem?" Harry asked, as Draco sat down.

"I just wanted some help with my seventh year class tomorrow," Draco said as he uncorked the bottle wandlessly and poured the wine.

"What kind of help?"

"A demonstration of Leglimency," Draco said, having the sense to look contrite. "I'm sorry," he added quickly, "it's just – I don't trust anyone else with it."

"So you want me to demonstrate Leglimency on you," Harry guessed.

"Yeah."

"What's in it for me?"

"More wine?"

"Okay," Harry said, taking his first sip and savouring the taste.

Draco grinned.

…

Harry felt quite self-conscious as he prepared to invade Draco's mind in class the next day. In his nervousness, he quite overdid the spell, and ended up in Draco's subconscious – and therefore he saw things that Draco himself didn't see. What he saw was extremely confronting. It was a seventeen-year-old version of himself. In the shower.

Harry barely had time to wonder when Draco could have seen him naked before he was unceremoniously shoved from Draco's mind. Draco, of course, did not look embarrassed because he had no idea what Harry had seen.

Harry left the class feeling dazed and confused. And, a little bit intrigued.

…

That night, Harry found himself attending a Ministry staff party with Ron, as Hermione was now confined to the house during the last few weeks of her pregnancy.

"Harry? Harry Potter?"

Harry turned around – there stood a very attractive, tall, blond man.

"Yes?" Harry said, giving what he knew to be a winning smile.

The man visibly swooned; Harry would have smirked, except that he didn't want to ruin the effect.

"You don't remember me," the man said, "We were in the same year at school."

Harry struggled. "You look familiar, but in that 'you look really grown up and different to how you used to look' kind of way," Harry said apologetically, lowering his gaze and affecting an embarrassed facial expression.

"Hey, don't worry! It's Zacharias. Zacharias Smith."

"Oh! Of course, I'm so sorry," Harry said, grabbing two glasses of wine and handing one to Smith.

"No, really. I'm not at all offended. I mean, if you weren't in the paper every day, I would hardly recognise you," Smith said, eyeing Harry appreciatingly. "You're all grown up," he said in a low tone, leaning forward and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder in a not-at-all-platonic way.

Harry grinned, and, catching Ron's eye, put his hand on the small of Ron's back and steered Smith out of the room.

Two hours later, after a few more wines at a local bar, Harry had Smith on the sofa in his chambers at Hogwarts. Although he found Smith just as attractive as all the other men he had dated recently, he knew he didn't want a relationship.

However, that seemed to be far from Smith's mind too, as he was currently sucking Harry's neck enthusiastically.

Just at the moment when Smith's hands were beginning to wander, the door opened.

"Harry, I just wanted to thank you for- for Merlin's sake, Potter, can't you ward the door when you have company?!" Draco stopped short in the doorway and glared at Harry.

"Malfoy?" Smith sounded confused.

"Yes. Who the hell are you?" Draco asked angrily.

Harry stood up suddenly, smoothing his shirt. "Draco – this is Zacharias Smith, he was-"

"A member of your little illegal Defence group. Yes, yes, I know." Draco sounded quite irritated, though Harry couldn't imagine why.

Smith looked extremely uncomfortable. So did Harry. Draco just looked angry.

"Well, I guess I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow," Draco said. "Here's the wine, as promised," he added, handing the bottle to Harry and vanishing the two glasses he had brought with him.

Harry felt inexplicably disappointed to see the glasses vanish, and even more so to see Draco's back retreating through the doorway.

Zacharias stood impassively, waiting for a cue from Harry. Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Um, Zacharias… I'm feeling a little tired, sorry. I don't want to kick you out, but…"

"Don't worry, Harry," Smith sounded very disappointed, but at least he wasn't angry. "I understand." His gaze flickered to the wine, and Harry flushed, though he was unsure why.

After Zacharias had left, Harry sat back down on the sofa. He didn't feel tired in the least, and he wondered briefly why he had fobbed Smith off with that excuse.

He decided to floo call Ron – surely he should be home by now.

"Hermione? Ron?" Harry called on entering their lounge room.

"Upstairs," Harry heard Ron's voice; it sounded extremely strained.

Harry knocked softly on the door to their bedroom, which stood ajar.

Ron opened it fully; Harry could see that Hermione was in bed reading.

"Come in," she said, putting her book aside and smiling.

"Harry," Ron said, as soon as Harry had sat down on the bed, "what made you decide to leave with Smith?"

"Well, he's extremely attractive," Harry began, but Ron cut him off.

"Harry, every man you've dated for the past two months has looked almost exactly the same! They are all blond, slim, pale and have blue or grey eyes!"

"Well that's just what I find attractive, Ron," Harry explained, annoyed that this simple concept was clearly not understood by Ron.

Ron looked very unsettled. "I'm not hearing this. No, this can't be happening."

"Ron, what is it?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione, who merely smiled and shook her head.

"And the weirdest thing just happened," Harry continued, deciding that Ron's curious behaviour would surely become clear in time. "We were just in my rooms, when Draco burst in-"

"_Draco_?!" Ron sputtered, quieting hastily at a glare from Hermione.

"Yes, Draco, and he had brought up another bottle of wine-"

"You _drink_ with Malfoy?!"

"Ron!" Hermione admonished.

"Yes. Why not? Anyway, it was really awkward because Zacharias was kind of – well, you know, we were making out, and Draco walked in on us, and I felt so weird I had to pretend I was tired to get rid of Smith."

"I need to see George," Ron stood up abruptly and left the room without so much as a goodbye.

…

"George!" Ron shouted. "Emergency!"

George came pelting into the room carrying a teddy bear. "What is it? Hermione's in labour?"

"No," Ron said, eyeing the teddy bear with distaste. You're going to give her _that_?!"

George rolled his eyes. "What's the emergency, little brother?"

"I think Harry's in love with Malfoy!"

"Draco Malfoy? My, my, this is an urgent matter," George said, gesturing Ron towards the kitchen table. Ron sat down and magicked himself a cup of hot chocolate.

"So. What brought you to this conclusion?"

"He's been dating look-a-likes for two months!"

"Yes?"

"And he's friends with Malfoy now, and calls him _Draco_!" Ron said, spitting out the name as if it were poison.

"And?"

"_And_," Ron said, with an air of great significance, "he sent Smith away after being interrupted by Malfoy."

"Ah. Well, it sounds like you may be right, little brother," George said, sounding wholly unconcerned by the matter.

Ron grimaced. "I hope he just decides to stick with Smith. Malfoy is a dunderhead."

"That may be," George said kindly, "but Smith is an even bigger dunderhead."

…

End part three


	4. Draco

Denial, Thy name is… 

DRACO was fuming. How could Potter be such an idiot and forget to lock and ward his door? Bursting in on Harry and Smith had given Draco a deep feeling of disgust.

For, if that twisting feeling in his gut and the wrenching feeling in his chest weren't disgust, he certainly didn't know what it was. No way.

"Blaise!" He shouted, thrusting his head into the green flames, "I need to talk to you! NOW!"

Blaise appeared in the doorway of his kitchen, looking extremely frightened.

"Yes, Draco?"

"Knock it off, it's about Potter."

Blaise looked visibly relieved and beckoned for Draco to come through.

Draco wasted no time in pulling his head out, scrambling (in a very dignified manner) to his feet and hurrying through the floo.

Moments later, he was standing in Blaise and Pansy's kitchen. He sat down at the table, feeling very grateful that Blaise's forethought had provided him with a cup of tea.

"So. What's the problem?"

"It's Potter."

"So you've said," Blaise responded, sounding highly amused. Draco scowled at him.

"I just burst in on him with Smith. With Smith! You know, from school – that complete twat. No fashion sense whatsoever, and eugh! He's just such a twat!"

"Yes, you've mentioned that. What about Potter and Smith? Were they going at it like rabbits?"

"Thank Merlin, no. I don't think I could have handled seeing _that_! Smith's face attached to Ha- Potter's neck was disgusting enough."

"Disgusting?" Blaise was starting to get very interested in the conversation. "Draco, surely a man of your… tastes, could never find two attractive men together a disgusting sight to behold!"

"It was! If this feeling isn't disgust, I don't know what it is!" Draco insisted, the look on his face ensuring Blaise that he really had no idea what was happening to him. Blaise took pity on the poor bloke.

"Draco," he said very gently, "do you find Harry attractive?"

"What? Oh, I'm not sure that I've – well, sure, I guess. Who doesn't?"

Blaise grinned. "Have you ever noticed how much Smith resembles you? Purely in appearance, of course."

"Yes, I suppose he does look like an inferior version of me."

"Have you seen any of the other guys Harry's been dating? I've been hearing some interesting tidbits that George gets through Ron."

"You're in contact with George _Weasley?!_"

"Well, yeah. Of course. Panse and I buy his products all the time. For the kids," Blaise added quickly. Draco smirked.

"Of course," he conceded.

"So, have you _seen_ any of the other guys?"

"No. Are you telling me they're not real?" Draco asked, feeling strangely hopeful. Obviously, he thought to himself, he just didn't want Potter getting any when Draco himself wasn't.

"Oh, no, they're definitely real. It's just…" Draco was unaccustomed to feeling disappointed so it took him a few moments to identify the feeling.

"What, Blaise?" He prompted impatiently.

"They all – Draco, they all look the same. Like you said, inferior versions of you."

"Really?" Draco asked, smirking. That was interesting. And suddenly, Draco felt much happier. The feeling of disappointment was completely gone. When he realised what it was that Blaise had said to cause this, he groaned.

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, _no_!"

"What is it Draco?" Blaise was grinning. "Are your feelings finally catching up with you?"

Draco had his head in his hands and continued to groan, but Blaise could make out a definite nod.

"Pansy will be delighted," he commented airily.

Draco's head shot up and he glared at Blaise.

"You will not tell her. Not until-"

"Not until what? Until you're sure you like Potter, until you're sure he likes you back, until you're engaged? When can I tell her, Draco?"

"Oh, fine. Have it your way. But at least wait until I leave."

"That's not a problem, Draco. She's asleep right now. It is actually quite late, you know."

Draco now looked at Blaise properly for the first time all night. He was in his pyjamas and his hair was rumpled as if-

"You were in bed?"

"Naturally," Blaise said, inclining his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I just felt so-"

"Jealous. Upset. Angry. Betrayed. In love. Yes, I know," Blaise said, standing up.

"I can _not_ be in love with Potter," Draco insisted.

"Why not? You've been friends for months now. You're gay, it's been made very _clear_ that he's at least bi, you're both single, wealthy, _extremely_ handsome-"

"Okay Blaise, you've made your point." Draco stood up also, heaving a great sigh as he did so. "What do I do now?"

"Time to put your seduction skills to use," Blaise said, winking.

Draco smirked. Harry wouldn't know what had hit him.

…

Harry blinked stupidly as he stared at the note. It was breakfast, Draco was sitting right next to him, and had sent him a note via owl. This was too much for poor, tired, Harry to process, so instead of replying to the note, he turned to Draco.

"You want to play 'Snitch' with me?"

Draco shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Have you even ridden a broom since we left school?" Harry asked.

"Nope," Draco said, watching Harry's face and smirking to see that it was clueless. He leaned in close and whispered seductively into Harry's ear.

"The last time I was on a broom, I was clinging to you for my life."

Harry flushed, leaning away from Draco.

"Er – um, that is, so… you – you w-w-want-"

"I want _you_," Draco whispered, and Harry flushed even more, "to play Snitch with me," he finished, grinning as Harry's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"Of course," he said, "I might need a few tips from the flying instructor. Not sure that I remember everything."

Harry immediately perked up. "Of course. We'll have a refresher course before hand."

"Great. So, Harry, I guess I'll see you after dinner."

"After dinner? But I thought-"

"Oh, yes, of course. I quite forgot about the quidditch match," Draco said, well aware that Harry had forgotten too and was talking about their plans.

"The quidditch match," Harry echoed hollowly. He had never felt so unenthused by the prospect of a match in all his life.

"I suppose you're refereeing," Draco commented, smirking because just prior he had confided in McGonagall that it was Neville Longbottom's greatest desire to referee at least one quidditch match at Hogwarts in his career as the Herbology teacher.

He had, of course, bribed Longbottom to go along with it.

"Oh, actually – McGonagall caught me just before breakfast and said that Neville was refereeing. I had no idea that he wanted-"

"Neither did I," Draco said, wondering absently whether his actions caused this statement to be a truth or a lie. Technically, he supposed, it wasn't either, as Neville really had no such desire.

"So," Draco said, "will you sit with me?"

Harry looked bemused. "Of course. We always sit together at quidditch matches."

"Great!" Draco said.

…

Of course, the game had to be between Gryffindor and Slytherin. But, for once, Harry really didn't care who won. All he could think about was his and Draco's plan to play quidditch after dinner.

Draco made absolutely sure that Harry paid as much attention to him as possible. Mostly he did this by touching Harry in ways that to the outside observer were nothing more than the touches of close friends. But to Harry and Draco, it was something else entirely. Because they had never so much as shaken hands during their whole friendship.

"Wow, Harry, did you see that goal?" Draco said, squeezing Harry's knee.

"Hm?" Harry said, clearly not paying any attention to the game at all. Draco turned to Harry, eyes bright with excitement. He let his hand remain on Harry's knee for a few moments longer than necessary.

"I said, did you see that goal?"

"Oh. No, sorry," Harry mumbled and flushed, looking back to the pitch and trying to focus.

"Oh, Harry. You have something in your hair," Draco said, affecting an exasperated tone as he held Harry's head with one hand and carded the other through Harry's hair.

"Um," Harry said as he blushed again.

"You're welcome," Draco said sweetly, returning his hands to his own lap.

At the end of the game, Draco put his hand on the small of Harry's back, under the pretense of steering him through the crowd.

"Maybe next time we should wait in the stands until the crowd disperses," he said conversationally. Harry looked totally dazed.

"Mm," he said, clearly not knowing what he was agreeing with.

"Harry," Draco said in a low tone, "do you agree that Slytherin has always been superior to Gryffindor?"

"Mm," was all Harry said. Draco was delighted.

"And, do you think I'm the handsomest man you've ever met?"

"Mm," Harry said, still not focused on the conversation.

"Harry," Draco continued, his voice so low it was almost a whisper, "I find you wildly attractive. Can we go back to your room and have hot animal sex?"

"Mm," Harry said, followed immediately by a shriek which turned the heads of the whole crowd. "WHAT?!"

Draco grinned. "Well, that certainly got your attention! Just so you know, you have agreed with me that Slytherin is superior to Gryffindor."

"Pfft. No way."

"And that I'm the most handsome man you know."

Harry had nothing to say to that. He merely quickened his pace.

Draco let him go, grinning.

At lunch, Draco decided that he would act normal for the rest of the day. That is, friendly but not more than that.

Harry was obviously very confused by the time they got down to the quidditch pitch with Harry's Firebolt 6000 and a spare broom from the broom closet.

"Okay, so shall we just have an easy fly around the pitch first?" Harry suggested.

"Sure," Draco agreed, mounting the spare broom and kicking off gracefully. Once he was in the air, however, he was totally panicked. He couldn't _believe_ the school still had the Nimbus 2001s, but they were definitely too old to be reliably controlled.

"Um, Harry?" Draco said uncertainly, "I'm not sure that I can control this broom," he admitted.

"Okay hold on," Harry said, flying swiftly over. "I'm going to get on behind you," Harry said.

Draco nodded and Harry climbed onto Draco's broom, tucking his own under his arm and putting his hands over Draco's where they gripped the broom tightly. Harry gently guided the broom towards the ground, scooting closer to Draco under the pretext of angling the broom correctly.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when they touched down; he was feeling quite aroused by the proximity of Draco.

"I guess we'll have to postpone this until I get some new brooms for the spare cupboard," Harry said, sheepishly.

"Why didn't you check them before?" Draco queried.

"Brooms are so cheap these days that no one needs to use spares," Harry said. "Plus, it's mandatory that all students have one these days – they're an excellent means of escape."

"Don't I know it," Draco agreed, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder while he lifted his foot up to tie his shoelace.

When he had finished and was about to take his hand away, Harry held it with his own.

"Draco," he said uncertainly.

"Yes?" Draco breathed, stepping unconsciously closer to Harry.

"Draco, the way you've been acting today, I don't know – that is, I'm not sure-"

"What is it, Harry?" Draco said, stepping forward again. They were so close now that he could feel Harry trembling.

"Draco, I- I don't know what you want from me," Harry confessed, letting go of Draco's hand as he stepped back and looked away over his shoulder.

"Harry," Draco said, rushing forward and taking both of Harry's hands in his own. Harry looked up, and Draco felt a rush of happiness at the hopeful look on his face.

"Harry," he said again, and then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harry's.

For a moment, they both froze like that. Then, brains (and other body parts) clicking into gear, they both started to move their lips. Harry moaned, and Draco pulled away slightly.

"Harry, I want anything that you'll give me," Draco confessed, leaning in to kiss Harry again. Harry parted his lips immediately, and Draco pulled Harry tight against him.

"Draco," Harry whispered, plunging in again and winding one hand tightly in Draco's hair, the other sliding down his side.

"Mm," Draco said, then wrenched himself away from Harry, looking over Harry's shoulder in a mixture of shock and fear.

Harry turned around. McGonagall had just left the castle and was heading their way. It was clear from the way she was walking that she knew what they had been doing.

"Stay right there! If that's you, Jamieson and Valdor, I will give you detentions for the rest of the year!"

"Quick, she doesn't know it's us!" Draco hissed, tugging on Harry's sleeve.

Harry didn't move. "Draco, the only way to the castle is past her."

"Your cloak!" Draco hissed again, but Harry shook his head.

"She knows about it."

Draco huffed angrily; but he stepped up to stand beside Harry and took his hand in his own, nonetheless.

McGonagall was shocked.

"Professors Malfoy and Potter!" She said angrily, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Well, we were just-"

"I can see very well for myself what you were _just_, Mr Malfoy!"

"Sorry, Minerva," Harry said.

"Sorry, indeed! I should hope so! Kindly refrain from behaving in such a manner where any number of students may see you!"

"Yes, Minerva," Harry said contritely.

McGonagall turned to go, but Draco stopped her.

"Headmistress? Does that mean we can behave in such a manner in our own rooms?"

"Draco, what goes on behind the warded door to a Hogwarts professor's chambers has never been the business of the Headmaster or Headmistress. Goodnight," she said, turning abruptly on her heel and walking briskly back to the castle.

Harry turned to Draco and grinned. "I think she just gave us her blessing."

…

End part four


End file.
